


breathe (keep breathing)

by mischief7manager



Series: but for now let's all pretend [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Character Study, F/M, Families of Choice, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief7manager/pseuds/mischief7manager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He’s had his fun, especially when he was young and had nothing to do but keep himself and his sister alive, but he’s always been the one to fall hard and fast.<br/>Vax makes a point not to run from his feelings. He just never knows what to do with them."<br/>A character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	breathe (keep breathing)

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is going to be a thing now. Title from "Exit Music (for a Film)" by Radiohead, used by Liam O'Brien in his Vax'ildan character playlist. Spoilers through episode 39.

     For all they’re twins, Vax thinks, there are some aspects in which he and his sister are perfect opposites. Vex flirts like it’s her job (and it is, sometimes), takes lovers to her bed as she pleases (when she has access to a bed), but so much as hint at the possibility of  _ feelings _ , and she runs for the hills. As for Vax, he’s had his fun, especially when he was young and had nothing to do but keep himself and his sister alive, but he’s always been the one to fall hard and fast. 

     Vax makes a point not to run from his feelings. He just never knows what to do with them.

 

* * *

 

     He doesn’t remember a lot from his days after they left their mother’s village for the last time. Some of it, he was just too damned drunk to recall after, and he thinks that might be a blessing. Some of it, like his time with the Clasp, he actively avoids remembering. He learned what he needed to survive, in those days, and didn’t worry about the person it made him. He misses that sense of purpose, sometimes, and that feeling scares him more than any gaps in his memory. 

     He does remember the rush, whether it came from picking a lock, lifting a purse, spending a night with beautiful boy, or girl, or both. The kick of adrenaline, of being on top of the world, more satisfying than any cool, half-hearted praise from his father ever was. He thinks he’ll spend his whole life trying to hold on to that feeling, and when he and Vex decide to team up with the rest of the party, he’s more than happy to fight alongside them. Not to trust them, of course, but together they seem to attract exactly the sort of opportunities he needs to break out his knives and do what he does best. That’s enough to satisfy him, for a while.

 

* * *

 

     Gilmore is… complicated. 

     Attractive, of course. Charming, intelligent, the sort of man he might have imagined himself with, when he was young enough to think he might find enough stability and happiness to settle down. There’s never a dull moment with Gilmore, but Vax finds himself thinking of the merchant as something of a safe haven. A reminder that life goes on when he’s not watching, outside of Vox Machina’s adventures. 

     It would be so easy to fall in love with Gilmore. He considers it idly, walking and drinking with him after their return from the Underdark. What a simple thing, to take his hand, kiss him, follow him to bed. To ignore everything else and allow himself this selfish happiness. 

     Instead, he smiles, and keeps his touches just on the safe side of flirtation. He’s never been selfish, not really. It would be a cruel thing to start now. 

     (Still, he wonders, watching Gilmore pull away in the tavern after his confession, if the path he chose is not, ultimately, the crueler one.)

 

* * *

 

     He racks his brain for a moment, an instant, something he can point to and say, “There. That’s when it started. That’s when I knew.” It might help to have that certainty, that knowledge, but try as he might, there’s nothing. All he knows is that somehow, without his realizing it, he cares about Keyleth more than anyone except his sister, more than he thought was possible. 

     It’s not just that she’s beautiful. He learned long ago, beautiful faces can be worn by ugly people. It’s her passion when she talks about her Aramente and the things she wants to do to make her people stronger. It’s her loyalty to Vox Machina, her willingness to put herself in harm’s way to protect the people she cares about. It’s her complete and utter lack of social graces, which doesn’t stop her from putting trust in people even when it would be wiser not to. It’s her  _ goodness _ . Keyleth is good, through and through, and she sees the goodness in others, even when they can’t see it themselves,  _ especially _ when they can’t see it themselves. She makes other people want to be good, too, and Vax loves her. He loves her for everything she is, everything she tries to be. It’s a part of him now, as deep and true as his bond with his sister or his skill with a blade. He’s a rogue, and a thief, and he is in love with Keyleth. And that’s all there is to it.

 

* * *

 

     Vax is no fool. He knows his luck will run out one day. He also knows, despite what Vox Machina may think, that running headlong into danger with only a cloak and some sharp bits of metal to protect him is likely to bring that day sooner rather than late. They call him reckless for that, and stupid, and all other kinds of names, and swear up and down never to let him out of their sight again, but he thinks they’re coming at it from the wrong place.

     It’s not that Vax doesn’t value his own life. He quite likes being alive, thanks. He just… values other things more. His sister. His friends. Even Grog. This family he found after his own blood rejected him. Vax has spent most of his life with nothing and no one but his sister to call his own. Now that he has people he cares about, how could he give anything less than his all to protect them? 

     Vax has always felt, in a part of him he doesn’t like to acknowledge, that he won’t live to see old age. The life that he’s chosen doesn’t lend itself well to peaceful retirement, and he’s ended too many lives to think that his own is worth more than anyone else’s. Luck and skill have taken him this far, but a day will come when they won’t be enough, and when it does, he wants it to mean something. His mother died helpless, a victim to a power that saw her as nothing but an insect to be crushed underfoot. Vax won’t let that happen to him. And he’ll be damned if he lets it happen to any member of his family ever again.

 

* * *

 

     For all the excitement, the life-or-death risks, the thrills and chills, Vax finds it’s the quiet moments that stay with him. The post-battle celebrations, where everyone can drink and laugh and not worry about anything but who’s picking up the tab, when they can sink into their easy familiarity with each other and just be a group of friends together after a hard day’s work. 

     It’s in one such moment, during what he doesn’t know will be the last good night for a long time, that Keyleth sits down next to him. They’re in Hoarth’s, eating the food Gilmore provided (always generous, in spite of himself), drinking more than they ought, and Vax has been staring down the contents of his tankard for a while now. Between the events of the day, and the conversation he knows he’s going to have to have with Gilmore before he leaves, he’s not in a particularly festive mood. Apparently, his melancholy has caught Keyleth’s attention.

     “Vax!” she chirps, well on her way to hammered. “Vaaaaaaax! Why’re you sad? You shouldn’t be sad right now, we’re having fun! We neeeever have fun, you can’t be sad during fun, that makes it--” She stops, her nose crinkling in concentration. “...not fun.”

     Vax’s mouth quirks. “I’m fine, Kiki, it’s nothing. Go and have your fun.” He nods over to where Grog and Scanlan are playing darts. They’re hitting the wall (and the patrons) more often than the board, but never let it be said that lack of skill has stopped Grog or Scanlan from something they’ve set their minds to. A few tables over, the rest of the group is in conversation with Gilmore. The discussion looks about as fun as Vax feels at the moment, but with luck it’ll be enough to entice Keyleth away. 

     Unfortunately, it seems luck is not with him tonight. “It’s not  _ nothing _ , I can tell. You’ve been weird ever since Whitestone. Is it ‘cause of the Briarwoods almost killing you?” Vax shakes his head. Keyleth frowns. “Is it ‘cause of that stuff with the Clasp?” Again, Vax shakes his head. “Is it ‘cause of Scanlan’s friends being dicks?” That gets a laugh out of him, and he chuckles as he shakes his head once more. Her next question is so soft, he almost doesn’t catch it over the noise of the bar.

     “Is it ‘cause of me?”

     Vax turns to look at her. Keyleth is keeping her eyes down, her hair falling in a curtain in front of her face. He can just make out the set of her jaw, clenched in the way that means she’s keeping some emotion in check. Without thinking, Vax reaches out to push her hair back, but stops himself before he touches her. It would be unfair to allow himself such an indulgence, even under an innocent pretext. Instead, he runs his fingers through his own hair, allowing the physical act to ground him. “What do you mean?” 

     “You know. Because of what you said back in Whitestone. And how I haven’t said anything back yet.” Keyleth’s still not looking at him, and the thought of her blaming herself for this is enough to overcome his better judgement. 

     He sweeps her hair back and tucks it behind her ear, letting his hand come to rest on her shoulder. “Look at me.” She does, and to his shame her eyes are shining with unshed tears. “I told you I would wait, and I meant it. You don’t owe me anything, alright, so don’t think that anything to do with me is your fault.”  

     Keyleth bites her lip. “Vax, I-- You have to know, I haven’t-- I haven’t said anything, but it’s not because I don’t--” 

     Vax cuts her off. “I know, Kiki.” Whatever she was going to say, he’d rather hear it when she’s sober. When he knows she’s saying it because she wants to, not out of some misplaced guilt. He rubs her shoulder gently, like he’s done a dozen times before to comfort her over much smaller things. “I know.” 

     She smiles, soft and small, but genuine, and Vax feels a familiar warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol fill his chest. “Good.” She closes her eyes and drops her head to his shoulder, and Vax allows himself a moment to sit in her presence, her hair brushing against his cheek, his hand making small circles against her back. 

     In a few minutes, Grog and Scanlan will get bored with throwing darts. His sister’s conversation with Gilmore will end. They’ll leave this bar and go back to the Keep, and he won’t be able to hide from his doubts and fears any longer. A day is coming when he’ll have to face what he’s been running from, and he don’t know what will happen when he does. But for now, Vax sits with Keyleth, listening to his family talk and laugh and forget their troubles. This quiet moment won’t last forever, he knows, but for right now, it’s enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I was just gonna write about my Vex feels, but then everybody else wanted a turn.  
> The fourth section is quite possibly the sappiest thing I've ever written. I hope Vax appreciates what I go through for him.


End file.
